Soulmates
by Cats070911
Summary: Everyone needs friends and when Lady Asherton is taken ill Tommy contemplates the importance of the role Barbara plays in his life but has the opportunity for more than friendship passed them by? No crime, just an introspective piece on friendship and romance and how fine the line can be.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** All usual disclaimers apply.

Because everyone needs their kindred spirit once in a while...

* * *

If Lord Asherton had been dreading the evening the reality for Tommy had been far worse. He had reluctantly agreed to escort his mother to a gala ball in support of an obscure cause that was not as important to him as many of his other charitable interests. The speeches had been deadly boring and the meal had given him the worst case of indigestion he could ever remember. Even now when he rubbed his stomach the distinct taste of over-cooked venison rose in his throat.

Tommy yawned and ran his hand through his hair. He removed his bow tie and folded it neatly before placing it into the inside pocket of his black dinner jacket. He wished that Barbara was with him but he could hardly ask her to come and keep him company. She was probably still mad at him for leaving early to attend the ball before he had completed his reports. The poor woman had a life too and as she had testily reminded him was not employed to be his private secretary. He regretted his parting line, 'oh come on Barbara we both know you'd do anything for me'. Even as he had spoken the words he had known he was being the pompous, arrogant, poncy version of himself that she hated. He had missed what she had muttered under her breath in response but he knew it was not favourable.

The hard plastic seat dug unpleasantly into his ribs if he sat back or cut off the circulation to his legs if he leant forward. He looked up and felt guilty. His mother was writhing in pain despite the two doses of morphine that they had given her and he was annoyed by an uncomfortable chair. When she had collapsed as he danced with her he had thought her shoe had broken but then he had seen she was unconscious. Fear and guilt had surged in equal measure. The ambulance had sped through the brightly lit London streets and he had trailed languidly in a cab. Now his mother was on a narrow gurney in the sub acute part Emergency. Doctors had prodded and probed. Nurses had taken samples of every bodily fluid and had given her oxygen and saline. They had been here for nearly two hours and yet they had no diagnosis. The doctor had rubbed his chin thoughtfully and ordered a CT scan.

When they wheeled his mother away he pulled out his phone and checked his messages. As he expected, there were none but he had hoped that Barbara would have sent one to say she had finished so that he could have an excuse to contact her. He held the phone between his thumb and forefinger and swirled it around and around with his other hand while he debated if he should call her. In the end he decide to text.

_Mother taken ill. At St. L's A&amp;E. Unlikely to make it in tomorrow. Pls tell Hillier. Tommy._

He felt better for having reached out. It was perfectly normal to tell his colleague what had happened.

Within a minute she had texted back. _Sorry to hear. Give her my best. Are you ok? B._

He stared at the screen. She had given him an option to continue their dialogue. _I think so. No diagnosis which is worrying._

He hoped she might ask more but knew that being polite and not wanting to probe she would probably not answer but it only took twenty seconds before his phone buzzed. _Are J or P with you?Take care._

_No. J will drive down tom. P in Spain. Thx_

This time there was no comforting buzz and Tommy could not help but feel disappointed. After several minutes he put his phone away and focussed on the room. There were several cubicles partitioned off from each other by mid-blue disposable curtains. He noticed the date stamp on the curtain beside him. It had been installed four months ago and was due to be replaced in another eight. The one on the other side was slightly darker and had only just been installed. Tommy imagined a geyser of blood from an accident victim splattering on them. All the bays faced a central station where the doctors and nurses congregated around computer screens and readouts from the monitors attached to their patients. He soon determined the hierarchy. Dark blue scrubs were the nurses, green the doctors, and aqua the nursing assistants. Doctors dressed in civilian clothes and with stethoscopes around their necks were specialist registrars assessing patients to be moved to specialist wards.

The man in Bed 8 was in agony. His screams were piercing and made Tommy wonder if it was the same scream everyone in fear of their life made or if it was the pain of his greenstick fracture. Tommy could see the bone sticking up like the cantilever of a bridge out of the man's blood-soaked jeans. Motorcycle accident, he had heard the doctors say. The man in Bed 9 was Polish and seemed to think if he shouted louder the doctor would understand his condition. They had called for an interpreter. Several other beds had vomitting women, drug overdosed youths, and men who had allowed a few beers to convince them that they could box like Muhummed Ali only to find they were not butterflies.

Perhaps saddest of all were the women in the beds beside his mother. Through the thick disposable curtains he could not help but here the conversations. The young woman in Bed 4 had just been told that her scans had revealed a tumour in her brain which was the cause of her fit that afternoon. She was sobbing so hard and calling for her mother that it made Tommy's heart break when her husband had to keep reminding her that her mother had passed on last year.

Directly behind his seat the woman in Bed 2 was in her seventies and earlier in the evening had tried to kill herself by taking a concoction of all the pills in her medicine cabinet. She had been rushed in by her son who had found her lying on her bedroom floor. The doctors had pumped her stomach and given her antidotes and now he could hear her crying. He wanted to pull back the curtain and talk to her but it was not his place. Her son had come in and they had argued. "I've just had enough," she had told the man in answer to his lecture about her responsibilities to the family and its good name. The man had been more concerned with appearance than how the woman was feeling. "You haven't ever eased my pain son, you've only ever added to it. I made a mistake but I was still your mother."

The words hit Tommy like a baseball bat. They could easily have been uttered by his own mother. They had a shaky truce but they had never truly reconciled. Now listening to the woman cry he began to understand how his mother might feel. She continued to find reasons to spend time with him but he resented them as obligations. He would try harder to reach out to her in future; if there was a future. Tommy retreated from the world into his own head and tried to find a new way to think about the events as his father lay dying. He tried to find a way to forgive.

"Hiya."

Tommy looked up to see Barbara standing beside him. "Barbara!"

"I thought you might like some company."

Tommy smiled gratefully and nodded. "Thank you. How did you get in past that officious nurse on the door?"

Barbara looked down and then smirked as she looked up. "I told them I was Lord Asherton's partner."

Tommy grinned at her. "Not DI Lynley's partner?"

"I thought you were more likely to have rolled out the big title to get better service but I had my warrant card handy."

"Oh did you indeed? I'll have you know I did...exactly that. I'll get you a chair."

The only place in the cubicle was right next to him. He worried that it was closer than she would feel comfortable but she sat without hesitation and undid her coat. He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug. "I'm glad you're here Barbara."

She looked up and smiled compassionately. "How's your mum?"

He never thought or referred to his mother as mum but coming from Barbara it sounded normal. If he ever had children he would like a more natural relationship with his children. He liked the idea of being called Dad not Father and he wanted his children to have a mum. Helen would definitely have been the Mother type and their children would have ended up like most of the semi-neglected but required heirs that filled the halls of Eton and Wycombe Abbey. He sighed heavily. Years ago that would have been normal but in this job he had seen some of the best and worst of humanity and he admired the way love was more gritty and real, more important perhaps, in the non-aristocratic circles.

"Gone for a scan," he said, "she should be back soon."

"I'll wait outside when she comes back. She won't want strangers hanging around."

Tommy hugged her shoulder again but this time he did not remove his hand but let it move down her arm to rest on the back of her chair. "You're not a stranger Barbara. You're...well your my partner remember?"

There was a quick hint of regret in Barbara's eyes that made Tommy sorry he had joked about it. She meant far more to him than a work partner but he did not have a word to describe their relationship. Soulmate felt closest but they were not lovers so that was inappropriate. It was to hard to classify; Barbara was simply...Barbara. Tommy was suddenly too warm. He stood and removed his jacket and placed it carefully over the back of his chair making sure it did not drag on the ground. When he sat he rested his hands awkwardly on each leg of his trousers.

"What happened?"

"She seemed fine during dinner then collapsed as I danced with her. When she came to she complained of terrible abdominal pain. It escalated rapidly and by the time we got here she was writhing in pain. She said it was much worse than childbirth. Her stomach has doubled in size!"

"Oh Sir how awful. Do they have any ideas?"

"Not really. 'A range of possibilities' they said which I think means they have no clue."

"The scan will help them," Barbara said. She reached out and put her hand over his fingers. The simple gesture was consoling and knowing he had her support Tommy felt less alone and lost. He looked up and smiled at her in the way he never smiled for anyone else. She had a unique ability to be able to comfort him with her genuine, open comments and actions and he had a special appreciative smile for those occasions. He noticed her blush slightly then felt the pressure lessen. He knew she was about to remove her hand so he twisted his fingers and curled them over hers. Her hand tensed and he feared she would pull away so he tightened his hold. She smiled shyly and relaxed.

"I'm glad you came," he said as he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. The noise and chaos of the room receded and Tommy had a moment of peace, only conscious of the world through the warm, reassuring grip of her hand. He took a few deep, restorative breaths then opened his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Nearly two o'clock."

"Really? Oh Barbara I'm sorry. I wouldn't have sent my texts if I'd realised how late it was."

"Don't be; I'm glad you contacted me."

They chatted briefly about what to tell Hillier and how to rebalance their caseload so that Tommy could take a few days off. Tommy was so engrossed in their discussion that he did not notice his mother's return until she spoke. "Hello Barbara."

Tommy and Barbara turned towards the voice. Dorothy was sitting in a wheelchair pushed by a large orderly. They both reacted instantly and guiltily pulled away their hands. Tommy's face reddened at the sight of his mother's gaze.

"Hello Lady Asherton, I'm sorry to hear you're not well. I hope they can fix you up quickly." Barbara sounded flustered. She turned to him and said, "I'll wait outside."

Tommy expected his mother to say something pompous and dismissive but she surprised him. "No stay please Barbara, it's good to have more company." Her voice was thin, almost feeble.

Tommy stood and helped lift his mother back into bed. She looked very drained. Her face was sallow and deeply lined. "The doctor will be here shortly," the orderly said as he left.

"I didn't enjoy that much," his mother said, "they make you drink this awful liquid then put you in a machine that spins and whirrs and has all these coloured lights turning on and off. You should hire the damned thing for the next Nanrunnel fair!"

Tommy was unsure how to react but Barbara laughed and started talking easily to his mother relieving him of the obligation to speak. The doctor strode up to the cubicle. "Lady Asherton?" When she nodded he continued, "I'm Doctor John Buckingstoke the senior surgeon on duty. Is this your son?"

Tommy stood and shook the doctor's hand firmly. "Tommy Lynley, pleased to meet you doctor."

"Right, I have Lord Asherton listed as next-of-kin. Your father I presume?"

"No, I'm Lord Asherton but I prefer not to use the title."

The doctor looked him up and down with a look of derision that Tommy found offensive. It was not worth arguing if the man had a chip on his shoulder. He felt like asking if he was from Acton but was appalled by his reaction. He glanced guiltily over at Barbara.

The doctor turned to his mother. "I've reviewed the scan. Can you tell me when you last did a poo?"

Lynley saw his mother's shock and knew her face was probably the same as his own. He was not sure the doctor needed to be so vulgar. His mother answered with surprising dignity. "I opened my bowels at six this morning, the same as every morning. Why?" He heard Barbara stifle a laugh. She was obviously highly amused by their reaction and despite himself he smiled at her.

"You appear to have an obstruction in your bowel but it is difficult to say it if it is an obstruction or a twisted bowel. We will operate as soon as we can. The operation has some risks of course but without it you will most likely die so not much choice is there? Right then I will see you in theatre."

"What risks exactly Doctor and how do we minimise them?" Tommy was shocked that Barbara had been the one to ask. He realised it probably should have been him.

"Stroke or heart attack from the operation but we will give your mother-in-law blood thinners. Anaesthetics can be tricky so there is always the risk of an adverse reaction. We may need to resect the bowel and I don't know how much we may need to remove. Worst case is that we will have to insert a stoma. I will talk to you and Lord Asherton once surgery is over." The doctor turned on his heels and left.

"With a bedside manner like that I imagine he is a brilliant surgeon," his mother quipped.

Tommy felt he should say something reassuring. He took his mother's hand in both of his and said, "it will be fine Mother. You'll sail through this and be back dancing before you know it."

Half an hour later his mother was prepared for surgery. Tommy said goodbye awkwardly and hoped it would not be the last time he saw her. Barbara was excellent with them both and eased an otherwise tense moment. As she was wheeled away Dorothy looked back at them. "Look after him for me Barbara, he needs you."

"He needs you too but I will, always," Barbara promised. Tommy had heard the sincerity in her tone. He showed his gratitude by hugging her shoulder. His mother would probably notice and make a fuss when she was better but right now he did not care. It was an old familiar gesture but he hoped Barbara understood how much he appreciated her coming to be with him and how much her promise meant.


	2. Chapter 2

"You should get some rest Sir. They said it will be hours. They have your number. Why don't you go home?"

"I can't," he said painfully then qualified it by adding, "I don't want to rattle around there by myself."

"Do you want to stay here then? They have a waiting lounge. I'll stay with you."

"No, you need to sleep. I don't suppose I could..." His voice trailed off uncertainly. Tommy did not want to impose.

"Yeah, of course."

Barbara had driven to the hospital and was parked at the far end of the carpark. The evening was cool and he considered pulling on his jacket but could not really be bothered. Lynley was much more tired than he had thought. As he squeezed into her car and maneuvered his feet around the discarded papers and food wrappings in her foot well he was grateful for his unkempt friend and her casual ease. "Thank you for tonight. You were excellent with Mother."

"You're welcome Sir. Are you hungry?"

The mention of food reminded him of that appalling venison. "No, just tired. But Barbara can I ask a favour?"

"Of course, anything."

"Please call me Tommy," he begged. As he said it he could hear the pitiful desperation of a child trying to make a friend. She looked across at him and frowned. At first he thought she was going to berate him but she seemed to weigh up all the issues associated with the request. She had resisted every previous attempt and he could see she was trying to find a way to gently refuse again. "I don't know why Barbara but tonight especially it would mean the world to me."

He watched her take a slow and deliberate breath. "I'll try...Tommy."

Hearing her call him by name and not rank was far more soothing than he had ever thought but he understood from the way she said it that his elation came at the price of her security. Despite everything else she had said and done for him over the years this carried an intimacy that exposed her. It was one of the few moments when she had let down all her barriers so that they could connect as true equals. He had asked her to give away a piece of herself that she guarded scrupulously and yet she had willingly done it to make him feel better. He was humbled that she cared more for his needs than her own. If he spoke he would say something mortifyingly mawkish and he could sense Barbara had reached her limit on sentimentality tonight so he simply turned towards her in his seat and smiled. She smiled back shyly and Tommy felt safe enough to say, "thank you."

Her flat was as untidy as her car and perversely it helped Tommy relax. Barbara's flat exuded homeliness. Perhaps the historic old pile that he grew up in, trying hard never to bump the priceless antiques, followed by the rigidity of boarding school had coupled with his fastidious personality to create a need for order. This compulsive tidiness came at the cost of never feeling anywhere was home. Tommy sighed and threw his jacket over the back of her chair before he collapsed into it. To his amusement Barbara appeared with a coat-hanger and hung his jacket with great reverence.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked.

"Nightcap." They looked at each other and smiled. Barbara still had the same bottle of whiskey in her cupboard and poured him a drink. It transported him back to the night two years ago when he had arrived on her doorstep and the conversation had started the same way. Barbara had thought he had been too honourable to sleep with Christine Miller but it was not honour that stopped him; it had been his guilt about how Barbara would feel if he had. He had been intellectually and probably physically attracted to Christine but he could never have loved her. After wandering aimlessly, unable to understand himself, he had ended up at Barbara's flat. She was the only one who knew him well enough to understand his confusion about Christine and his marriage. They had talked and for a moment, when they had looked at each other with an intensity that still warmed his heart, they both acknowledged they had gone well past being good friends. They gave each other purpose.

He wished now that he had taken it further but he had been scared she would lose respect for him. How could he ever have convinced her that he needed her in a way that at the time he could not articulate but that Christine or Helen could never satisfy? With his arrest the moment passed and sadly, with the stress of the hearing and his guilt about so many things, he had allowed himself to be fooled into resuming his respectable marriage. Perhaps if he had risked it that night everything would be different. Helen would probably still be alive, happily divorced and pursuing her interests and he may not have endured two years of agonising emotional turmoil. Now it was too late. Tommy knew he loved Barbara. He wanted to be with her but in a companionable, spiritual way. He was not after cheap gratification but she would always believe that was exactly what he wanted. He wished he could turn back time to that night but they had moved on to a new understanding; a friendship that could endure, not to be risked by ill-conceived passion.

He accepted the drink with a smile. "I promise, no great outpourings of my life's failures tonight Barbara."

"I don't mind...Tommy. We all need someone to confide in at times. You've helped me often enough. I was pleased it was me you reached out to tonight."

Tommy felt a lump develop in his throat. He leant forward and took her hand and looked directly in her eyes. "On balance I take far more than I give. There's no one else I would ever want to turn to but you. You're the only one who's ever really tried to understand me; the only one who's never wanted me to be anything but who I am."

Barbara held his gaze in a long, poignant stare that echoed that night before she broke the spell with her subtle humour. "No, I've wanted to change you alright and I think in some ways I have. You're not an insufferable ponce any more for starters."

Tommy smiled and laughed lightly. "I'm not so sure, I tried earlier tonight."

"Yeah but now you don't really mean it. Anyway you've changed me too. I'm more tolerant and forgiving."

"Marginally."

Barbara grinned at him. "Probably more than you think. It's late. You can sleep in my bed this time. You need a decent sleep."

Tommy looked up shocked and wondered if Barbara had also wanted that night two years ago to end differently. Barbara looked at him for a long time. "I'll stay out here," she said slowly, "you look beat and the next few days are going to be tiring. Stop being the gentleman for once and just do as you're told."

"Thank you."

"And stop thanking me all the time. We're friends right?" Tommy nodded. "It's what friends do. Now scoot."

Tommy stripped off his to his underwear and gratefully climbed under the covers. As he warmed it the bed smelled of Barbara. It was strange but comforting to be surrounded by her but he wished he had had the courage to ask her to stay with him. He would like to feel her arms around him, to feel her caress his head and lull him to sleep. He wanted to hold her to his chest and never let go.

Tommy had deliberately not closed her door. Maybe it had been an unconscious invitation but it had been a conscious way of trying to stay connected as she slept outside. As he drifted off to sleep he imagined she was there, sitting on the edge of the bed watching over him. He dreamt that she had said everything would be okay. She would be here for him no matter what happened. "Let me help you Sir. Don't do that thing where you drift off and think no one but your Scotch bottle loves you."

He could almost feel a soft kiss on his forehead before little feet padded away. "Barbara?" The feet stopped suddenly. He raised his head and looked up. She was silhouetted in the door frame. Tommy extended his hand. "Stay with me." The shadow remained still. "Please stay Barbara."

The shadow moved. At first he thought it had left him until he felt the covers lift and Barbara snuggled in beside him. He was on his side and she turned to face the same way. Tommy slipped his arm around her waist and held her. Her body curved into his as if it had been made for him. She held his hand and clamped it firmly in place. He smiled softly wondering if she was only doing that to ensure it did not wander north or south. Her warmth spread through him and Tommy felt calm, almost tranquil. His eyes felt heavy and he started to fall asleep. "Thank you," he mumbled almost incoherently, "I love you Barbara."

"Me too," she replied almost inaudibly. He sighed contentedly and sleep overtook him.

The staccato bleep of his alarm woke him only three hours later. His head was heavy and he just wanted to sleep. He fumbled on the overcrowded bedside table and found his phone. A swift swipe to the right and the annoying noise ceased. Barbara was awake and moved away. Her face had been nestled into his chest and her hand had been draped over him holding him tightly. His arm was numb but still under her and he pulled her back to him and wrapped his other arm around her. She did not hug him back but he did not mind. "I don't deserve you," he said before he planted a kiss on her head and released her.

Barbara wordlessly disappeared to the bathroom. He heard the shower and ten minutes later with wet hair and a change of clothes she was bustling around in the kitchen. He climbed back into his stale suit then followed the scent of coffee. "Good morning. Thanks for letting me stay." He sensed her discomfort. What made sense in the dark was awkward in the light.

"You're welcome. Have you rung the hospital?"

"No, I was avoiding it," he answered honestly. For the first time that morning she looked at him directly. "I'll ring now."

"Well?' she asked anxiously when he hung up.

"Two emergency caesareans and a heart patient pushed her down the schedule. She's in theatre now. It will be another two hours at least before she is in the ward."

"Time for breakfast then and to take you home to get showered and changed. Then I'll drop you at the hospital."

"Thank you. Will you come in with me?"

"If you want me to." Barbara came over and stood in front of him. "How are you?"

He smiled at her. "Better thanks. I slept peacefully."

"I'm glad. Well tonight you'll have a bit more room at home." Her tone was not in any way harsh but it was firm and Tommy understood that last night was not going to be repeated. He was sad but not surprised. It had been too intimate for Barbara. He nodded and saw her relief.

"You're a good friend Barbara." Tommy went to touch her arm but she moved away.

"Exactly. Don't mistake that for something else." She put down her cup and searched in her bag for her keys. "Come on, time to go."

Dorothy was brought back to the ward about ten minutes after they arrived. She was pale and tired but happy to see them. She had a tube draining her stomach from her nose and an air line supplementing her oxygen. Both were taped across her face reminding Tommy of Voldermort. Canulas in her arms provided fluids and a catheter drained them. White bags were wrapped around her legs and randomly inflated and deflated to squeeze her legs and keep blood circulating freely. Tommy had not realised that this was a major operation.

The surgeon came down and examined her. "Everything looks fine. We removed the twist and put in some stitches to prevent it happening again. We didn't have to resect the bowel so all being well she should be out in about five days."

Tommy shook his hand and thanked him. He was relieved that his mother would be fine. Conversation with her was stilted. Dorothy was still groggy and kept repeating herself. She asked repeatedly for Peter and sometimes confused Tommy with his father. Tommy noticed Barbara had been uncomfortable when his mother asked her why she had not brought her grandchildren to visit. The nurses shooed them out after ten minutes and he promised his mother they would return for afternoon visiting. As they walked down the corridor Barbara said, "I'll drop you home Sir so you can get some more sleep."

"What happened to Tommy? You must be tired too."

She shrugged indifferently. "Today's today. I don't think I should make a habit of it. I'm okay, I think I'll head into the office for a while."

"I think it's the only thing you should ever call me." Tommy could sense her withdrawal from him had something to do with last night. He was unsure whether to discuss it. "I know I'll be damned if I do and damned if I don't but do we need to talk about what happened last night?"

"No!" Barbara physically recoiled from him. She then visibly composed herself. "Nothing happened last night. We were tired, you were forlorn and I felt sorry for you. I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

Tommy was bemused by her reaction but also concerned that it might affect their friendship. As they continued to walk to the carpark he thought about what might follow if he pressed. It was time to find out what she really thought about their relationship. "What idea would that be?"

"That I...well...wanted something else to happen."

"I didn't have that impression at all. Last night was exactly what I needed from the moment you turned up to support me at the hospital to the moment I fell asleep with you in my arms. You made me feel safe and connected. You made me feel wanted and loved when I was feeling lost and alone. The thought of anything sexual never entered my head."

Barbara blushed. "No, of course not. I didn't want you to think I thought that...or that I thought that either. It's just a word after all."

"Barbara, that makes no sense! What word?"

"Last night, when you were almost asleep you said something you didn't mean."

Tommy remembered exactly and he had meant it. He stopped walking and turned to her. "I said I loved you and you said 'me too'. I meant it then and I mean it now. Do you?"

"That's not fair! You can say it so easily."

"Because it's true. Maybe it's an inadequate word but you understand me like no one else, you are always there for me, I'm happier and calmer when you are around and miserable and lonely when you're not. I respect you more than anyone else, I trust you with my life and my sanity. You're my inspiration and the person who keeps me going. So yes, I would say that I love you."

"That's not fair Tommy. They're all noble things and I feel the same but..."

"But?"

"Last night, lying with you, it was...too easy, I enjoyed it far too much."

Barbara could not look at him and Tommy wished they were not standing in the middle of a hospital carpark. He wanted to embrace her but worried that it would embarrass her further. He reached out and took her hand. "I'd like to sleep with you in my arms every night like that for the rest of my life."

Barbara looked up at him with cloudy eyes. "It won't work though will it? To want to be friends. Last night brought back all sorts of feelings I've tried hard for years to ignore. I can't lie with you and not want...more."

Tommy reacted before he thought about the consequences. He kissed her; softly at first and with great tenderness before she responded with a ferociousness that shocked him. "Barbara!"

She pulled away and ran through the car park towards her car. He caught up to her halfway. She glared at him. "See, now I've said it and ruined it. You work on some highfaluting intellectual plane where everything is soft and fluffy and perfect. Me, when you kiss me like that I want to rip your clothes off and shag you senseless. Not exactly a match made in heaven is it?"

"I think that's exactly what it is Barbara. I've thought of the word that better describes how I feel. You're my soulmate Barbara. We're like two pieces of a multi-sided puzzle. Bits sort of fitted but we've had to find just the right orientation and now it clicks together perfectly."

She frowned and tilted her head. "What are you trying to say?"

"We can't keep pretending we are only good friends Barbara. I want to share my life with you. I want you to be mum to my children. I'm in love with you. I don't understand why that is so hard to believe."

"Because you and I are not supposed to be together."

Tommy grinned broadly then kissed her so passionately the world began to spin. Her arms came around him and she melted into him. Tommy wondered how they would manage to get home. "Oh I think we are," he panted breathlessly, "and I'll prove it when I take you home and, as requested, 'shag you senseless'!"


End file.
